Someone Special
by Fire Bear1
Summary: Last year, Arthur asked Alfred - his best friend/crush - to the Christmas Dance only to be laughed at. This year, though, he is determined to enjoy himself by asking the new Portuguese student to the dance instead.


_**Hello! The first of three Christmas/winter stories I will write for you! Although, the second one is also set at Christmas time and will likely be late. =/**_

_**There is talk of varying sexualities in this story but it's brief and I'm not the one to ask about the specifics. Sorry. I would talk to someone who knows more about it if you want more information. It's also not the centre of the story so it's not really touched on. Bullying is mentioned but not shown because, again, the story is not about that.  
**_

_**But there is angst, so.**_

_**Also, this is inspired by Last Christmas so listen to that. And, if you want to switch songs halfway through, listen to All I Want For Christmas. ;)**_

* * *

"Just ask him," Francis insisted.

Arthur drew his gaze away from the distant table on the other side of the canteen to glare at his friend. And he used that term loosely. "Shut it. I'll do it when I feel like it."

"If you wait too long, someone else will ask him. Or _he'll_ ask a _girl_."

"How many times do I have to tell you to leave me the fuck alone. I'll do it later."

At this point, Elizaveta leaned in. "Arthur, you've been staring at that table for the past fifteen minutes."

He scowled at her. "I'm eating – for God's sake, can I at least finish?" The two irritants glanced down at his tray. Upon it were a few fish fingers and a pile of chips. They raised their eyebrows and looked back up at him, obviously unimpressed. Arthur turned red. "What?!" he snapped.

"Your breath will stink, mon cher," sighed Francis.

"I doubt he would want to go with you if you ask him stinking of _that_," added Elizaveta.

Growling, Arthur picked up his tray and walked along the table until he came upon Kiku and the empty seat beside him. Plopping down onto it, he sighed. "Those two are so bloody annoying," he murmured to the dark-haired boy.

"They are correct, though, Arthur-kun," Kiku pointed out.

"Oh, not you, too!" cried Arthur, throwing his arms in the air in dismay.

"I apologise but you _have_ been staring at... _him_. Francis and Elizaveta could not see you glaring but _I_ could."

Blushing, Arthur shook his head. "I-It's nothing!" he claimed. "I'm just annoyed that Emilio has to sit with _him_. I would be over there now if it weren't for _him_."

Kiku sighed heavily. Arthur knew he was bemoaning the fact that he was still hung up on what had happened last year. But he didn't mention it out loud, changing the subject instead. "Kat-chan is quite interested in her international relations."

"Oh? What's she up to now?"

"She intends to ask _certain people_ to the dance until one of the long list she has compiled says 'yes'."

Arthur glanced at Kiku before looking around for Katyusha. She was sitting with her younger sister and her second cousin at a table mainly used by Eastern Europeans. That seemed to happen a lot at the Academy, considering their special exchange programme which allowed students from around the world to study for four years in an American high school. Arthur was a part of the programme himself or he wouldn't have been in America at all.

His brow furrowed as he watched Katyusha sneak glances towards Emilio, the tanned, attractive Portuguese student. He was a new addition to their school, recently moved to the States with his family, and everyone had chattered about him, admiring his long hair pulled into a ponytail and his easy smiles. Antonio had been a little peeved that the attention his own good looks had gathered over the years had been diverted. However, Arthur had immediately spoken to the boy and found a good friend – until he had joined the football team and became the school's new 'Soccer Star'. Then he had found his friend slipping away.

_Again_, Arthur thought, bitterly.

"If you do not speak to Emilio soon," said Kiku, suddenly, drawing Arthur from his thoughts, "I am fairly sure Kat-chan will make her move..." He raised an eyebrow and looked Arthur in the eye. From the depths of his dark eyes, Arthur gleaned that he was trying to encourage him.

With a dramatic sigh, he stood. "Fine, fine – I get it!"

"Oh?" asked Francis, tuning in to their conversation again. "You understand that you must shave off those awful things you call eyebrows?"

Pausing in the act of turning from the table, Arthur looked at him in surprise. His gaze quickly turned poisonous, though, as Francis smirked up at him. Just as Arthur lunged across to grab Francis's school tie (and perhaps strangle him with it) Kiku called out to him.

"Look!" The shorter boy nodded in Katyusha's direction and Arthur turned slightly to see what the fuss was about. It appeared that she had gotten to her feet. She was wringing her hands and talking with her sister and cousin, looking a little nervous.

"_Fuck_," breathed Arthur and quickly relinquished his grip on Francis. Without another word, he hurried off towards the 'Jock Table'.

As he made his way over to his target, his eyes strayed to _him_: Alfred F. Jones. The teenager was watching him approach, those blue eyes of his wide behind his glasses. His mouth formed an 'o', as if he was surprised at Arthur's approach.

And well he should be.

For, last year, when the Christmas Dance was nearing, Arthur had asked Alfred to go as his date. It had been during his first couple of years at Astoria Academy that Arthur had realised that he was gay. He and Alfred had been good friends, the outgoing, bubbly American befriending the slightly shy and introverted Englishman easily. As they grew closer and closer, Arthur found himself reacting to certain things in strange ways; touches and smiles made him warm and flustered. It culminated in him asking Alfred to the dance – and he had been horribly disappointed.

Instead of agreeing or just letting Arthur down gently, Alfred had laughed at him. Mortified, Arthur had run away, a pain in his chest growing larger the further he went. He avoided Alfred at all costs for the next couple of weeks, using his clubs and homework as an excuse not to talk to him. Obviously, there was bullying, mild at first, but Arthur tuned it out, for the most part, retaliating with a sharp tongue.

On the night of the dance, Arthur had hidden in his room alone, watching Kiku leave with a worried glance at his friend.

Just as Arthur had gotten his luggage to the taxi to begin his journey home for the holidays, Alfred cornered him, looking both annoyed and upset. They had had a blazing row which had started with Alfred trying to dismiss Arthur's feelings. Infuriated, Arthur refused to be on civil terms with Alfred ever again.

So Arthur endured the bullying alone until a group of unlikely people surrounded him as friends. Francis was pansexual and no-one seemed to understand what that was: he was the butt of many a joke used to encourage guys to ask girls out. Elizaveta had days when she would hide her long, flowing locks beneath a wig and pretend to be a boy – she was considering getting a sex change when she left school but joked that she couldn't decide on a good name for herself. Kiku considered himself to be asexual which, again, most people couldn't understand. Their group had steadily grown, encompassing their friends, until, finally, the bullying seemed to peter out, although the occasional incident did still occur.

But Arthur still blamed Alfred for it all. (Though, perhaps he was as much to blame, since he had asked him in front of his American football teammates.)

Reaching the table, Arthur shot a warning glare at Alfred before turning to his once friend. "Emilio."

"Arthur! What a surprise. How can I be of service? Do you need something done for the dance?" asked Emilio, turning dark jade eyes upon Arthur.

"I... Well." Arthur stopped to clear his throat. He was feeling decidedly nervous now that he had gotten within reach of his goal. Thankfully, if he backed out now, he could use the excuse of the council needing his assistance. Arthur may not be the president of the Student Council (yet) but he was certainly taking on a lot of the tasks required for the dance.

"Arthur?"

Drawing upon his reserves of confidence – which had been steadily diminishing throughout the last year – Arthur took a deep breath and managed to force some words out. "I was wondering if you have a date for the dance?"

"I do not," replied Emilio, smiling at Arthur. The Brit got the sense that Emilio knew what was going on now. He couldn't back down now.

"Would you like to accompany _me_ to the dance?" he asked, realising too late that he had sounded a little too hopeful.

There was a clatter, as though someone had dropped something, and both of them glanced over at Alfred who was still staring with rather wide-eyes. Now, though, his cheeks were a lovely shade of pink. Arthur smirked at him. Had the idiot thought he had come over to ask him out again? No, he had learnt his lesson the last time. This year, he was determined to get to the dance with a date. Besides, he rather liked Emilio and found him _extremely_ hot. Did Alfred expect him to wait around for the dolt to accept him or become his friend again?

Arthur decided to push those thoughts from his mind. It would not be a good idea to dwell on Alfred. He turned back to Emilio to find the boy gazing at him in a calculating sort of way. A slow smile spread across Emilio's face.

"Yes," he said and Arthur's heart soared. After last year, he had been expecting another rejection.

"_Shit_!" he heard Alfred exclaim. Glancing over, he saw that the idiot had managed to knock over his glass as he tried to pick up his dropped fork. Coca Cola was quickly spreading in a sticky puddle across the table, encroaching on the Canadian student's space beside him. Arthur rolled his eyes and turned back to Emilio.

"Really?" he asked him.

"Sim- Ah, yes," Emilio said, nodding emphatically.

"Well. Um. That's... good. I suppose I'll leave you to your lunch, then." Arthur stiffly turned around, unsure what to do now that he had a date to the dance. The dance he was organising. He had a _date_!

"Wait," said Emilio, catching hold of Arthur's wrist. He looked down quickly, wondering what the student wanted. "Shall we meet up tonight to discuss plans?"

"I-" Was he asking Arthur on _another_ date? "U-Um, yes- Wait, no," stuttered Arthur, his brain catching up with him. "I have the Writing Club to go to tonight. And work for the Student Council. How about tomorrow, after school?"

Emilio grinned and nodded but, before he could say anything, _Alfred_ interrupted. "Dude. You can't," he said, frowning. It was odd to see Alfred frowning, Arthur realised. The only time Arthur could really remember him doing so was when he had caught him last Christmas at the taxi. Even with all of their arguments and petty bickering throughout the year, his smiles had stayed.

"And why can't he?" snarled Arthur, glaring at the tosser.

Alfred glared right back. "He has soccer practice."

"Football!" Arthur snapped, reflexively. Trying to simmer down, he turned back to Emilio. "Perhaps the weekend would be best?"

His future date nodded. "I shall pick you up on Saturday morning, sim?"

"Ah, yes. We could spend the day together-" Arthur broke off, realising that that was probably a bit too much. Blushing, he averted his gaze and ended up spotting Alfred staring at them. The wanker quickly looked down at his tray, poking listlessly at his food. Arthur refused to be affected by such a depressing display.

"I would like that very much," agreed Emilio.

Arthur's gaze snapped back to him, his eyes wide. "Really?" he couldn't stop himself from repeating.

"Of course. I have not spoken with you in a while. It would be good to catch up, não?"

For the first time in what felt like a year, a beam made its way onto Arthur's face. "Definitely. Well, I'll see you later, Emilio." And, with that, Arthur made his way back to his own table. He could see Francis, Elizaveta and Kiku trying to subtly watch the proceedings before they hurriedly returned their attention to their food. Sinking into his chair after skirting Katyusha's table, he was instantly hemmed in by his friends.

"Well?" demanded Elizaveta, never one to shy away from these sorts of things.

"I have a date," said Arthur, proudly. He smiled as he added, "And one this weekend."

Elizaveta immediately squealed. Francis clapped him on the back in congratulations. "Will you need help to get ready?" asked Francis. "After all, your fashion sense leaves much to be desired."

"What?!" cried Arthur, in outrage. Francis merely laughed and Arthur tried to lunge for him but the Frog had learnt his lesson and leaned backwards out of range. Unfortunately, for Francis, his chair protested against all the weight being on its back legs and chose to topple over backwards. Elizaveta and Arthur immediately burst out laughing, Arthur smug that gravity had helped in his revenge.

However, when everything had settled down once Elizaveta had taken Francis to the nurse – he had hit his head and insisted upon it – Arthur noticed that Kiku had not been paying attention. Instead, he was frowning at Emilio's table.

"What's wrong now?" Arthur sighed, used to his friend's tendency to worry.

"I was just thinking that Al-kun seems a little upset," Kiku said, looking at Arthur pointedly.

Just as pointedly, Arthur looked down at his fish fingers and said. "I don't know what you mean."

* * *

Arthur found himself growing steadily busier. His daily phone calls to his parents – promised before he left for the US – grew shorter and shorter, mostly consisting of apologies and the arrangement of Christmas plans. He had already booked his tickets, of course, but it always seemed that one or the other of them would forget and remind him to get it done. Sometimes he was able to speak to his little brother and he always marvelled at how distance made Peter much more bearable than when in his presence for elongated periods of time, such as the summer holidays.

However, he managed to clear his schedule for the Saturday and was, unfortunately, woken by a loud knocking on the door. For a moment, he panicked, stumbling to the door, wondering what Emilio would think of him in his Lord of the Rings pyjamas. However, when he opened the door, it was to find Francis and Elizaveta, both holding cups of coffee and with several carrier bags slung over their arms. In unison, they raised their eyebrows at Arthur's dishevelled appearance, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his eyes bleary but panicked.

"'I simply walked into Mordor, and all I got were these lousy pyjamas'?" Elizaveta read out loud. "That's..."

"Horribly geeky," sighed Francis with no small amount of disdain.

"Hey!" croaked Arthur, trying to glare but yawning instead.

"Come on, you!" cried Elizaveta, grabbing his arm and wheeling him around. "We need to get you in something that makes you look... hm... fantastic."

"And fabulous," added Francis. "If only Feliks hadn't gone on that trip. We are obviously going to need all the help we can get."

"Why, you..." growled Arthur, beginning to feel more awake.

"Minasan, ohayōgozaimasu," interrupted a mumbling voice from behind Arthur. He turned to find Kiku sitting up in bed in a similar state of dishevelment and rubbing his eyes.

"Ah, sorry Kiku. Didn't mean to wake you," said Arthur.

As Kiku took in the scene, he shook his head. "It is not your fault, Arthur-kun." Arthur could almost hear the accusation directed at the other two occupants of the room.

"We _do_ apologise, Kiku," said Elizaveta, impatiently. "But this is a matter of life and death."

"Oh, it is, is it?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at the two intruders who both shrugged.

"It might be," was Francis's response before he abruptly grabbed Arthur. "Come on, into the shower." And, with that, he pushed Arthur into the en suite bathroom before the Brit could react. With a sigh, Arthur did as he was told – but not before firmly locking the door behind him.

* * *

The next hour consisted of a whirlwind of clothes: t-shirts, tight trousers, cardigans, sweatshirts, hoodies – even a onesie with teddy bears decorating it which Arthur made sure to roll up into a tiny ball and throw right into Francis's face. Elizaveta fiddled with his hair, trying to get it to behave. Kiku disappeared for a while before returning with breakfast and a slightly worried expression: Arthur only spared a second to wonder what was wrong before he was pushed into the bathroom to try on something else.

Eventually, his friends decided that he was wearing the perfect outfit. He was wearing a pair of tight, plain black trousers which apparently accentuated his arse. They had found a pair of knee-length boots which fitted Arthur quite well and had been laced tightly all the way to the top. To accompany this, he was wearing a plain t-shirt beneath a Christmas jumper that was thankfully mostly a plain dark green. A tiny robin with a Santa hat had been stitched on the left breast and Arthur found it adorable; definitely not as bad as the one with the giant snowman on it.

"Magnifique!" Francis declared.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm fairly sure I could have gotten dressed by myself, thank you."

"Maybe," conceded Elizaveta. "Anyway, we had better leave now."

"Eh?" Francis blinked. "I thought we were going to watch the-"

"Do not be silly. Emilio might be put off if we are here."

"Liz has a point," agreed Arthur. "But you can stay here – I'll just wait at the bottom door. I'm not sure if Emilio knows which room I'm in."

Kiku chose that moment to speak up, booting up his laptop as he did so. "Would you like to watch Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi with me?"

"Ooh!" exclaimed Elizaveta, her eyes shining. "Is that the one that is paired with Junjou Romantica?"

Arthur chose this point to remove himself from the room. He had no idea what they talked about half of the time as he wasn't all that big on anime, which he presumed was what they were discussing. So he slipped out the door once he had grabbed his keys, wallet and coat and hurried downstairs.

When he reached the bottom door and wrenched it open, he almost ran into someone hovering outside. For a brief moment, he thought it was Emilio before he glanced up and blinked in surprise. Alfred F. Jones stood looking sheepishly at Arthur, shuffling his feet in his Converse trainers.

"Hi," he murmured.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jones?" demanded Arthur, his brow furrowed. Astoria Academy was a unique place with plenty of exchange students and, instead of placing the international teenagers with families to live, they stayed in the dorms on campus. The rest of the school body was made up of Americans who stayed in the nearby town and commuted by huge, yellow buses. So seeing Alfred on campus on a Saturday was uncommon unless he had some sort of sport to practice for – which Arthur knew he didn't due to his position on the council.

"I, uh, well..." Alfred stammered, looking away from Arthur. His cheeks were pink, probably from the cold, considering he was only wearing his varsity jacket instead of something long and heavy like Arthur was wearing. He had his hands stuck in the pockets, making him look even colder.

Deciding to help Alfred out so he could get out of his way faster, Arthur pointed across the courtyard. "The girls' dormitory is that side."

"Oh." Alfred looked a little more confused for a moment before he glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah."

"So..." said Arthur, slowly. "If you're looking for a _girl_ like Natalia or Katyusha, they'll be over _there_."

"No! That's- I wasn't-" Alfred hopped from foot to foot as Arthur stared at him with an eyebrow raised. "I wanted to see you..."

Arthur's heart did a funny thing where it managed to stop and speed up simultaneously. Alfred wanted to see him? Then his brain caught up with his heart and pulled it back from the brink of certain humiliation. He sighed and folded his arms. "If you need something for the table, it can wait till Monday, surely?"

Alfred blinked before shaking his head. "That's not why... I mean, I just... Are you really going to the dance with Emilio?"

So that was what this was all about. He still felt so confident and cock-sure of himself that he expected Arthur to still be hung up on him. Well, no siree. "And who else am I going to ask, exactly?" he demanded, glaring at Alfred now.

Several expressions flitted across Alfred's face before he ducked his head and flapped his arms a little, probably for something to do. "Um. Er... Francis? Or Kiku, maybe?"

Snorting, Arthur shook his head. Alfred raised his head to look at Arthur in equal parts curiosity and confusion. "I wouldn't be caught dead with the Frog. Besides, I'm sure he and Elizaveta are going together. As for Kiku, he's going with Heracles."

"Oh. I thought you were, maybe, I dunno, dating them or something."

"What?" hissed Arthur.

Seemingly realising that what he had said had irritated Arthur, Alfred hurriedly changed tack. "Couldn't you go with friends or something? Y'know, that Norwegian kid and the Romanian."

Narrowing his eyes further, Arthur took a threatening step forward. He was pleased to see Alfred shuffle back a little. "Are you trying to tell me that I shouldn't have a date?"

"N-No. I just... Don't go with Emilio!"

"And why not?!"

"Because he's... Well, he's only going with you so he doesn't have to go with Katyusha!"

That caused Arthur to pause. "What...?"

"He, er, well... Mattie really likes her but she likes Emilio and was totally gonna ask him but you got there first and Emilio said yes so Mattie can ask Kat and then, er... Yeah." Alfred grimaced at Arthur who stared back. Not entirely sure that had made sense, Arthur watched him for a few seconds. Then he realised that Alfred was lying; the way he was constantly shifting and gazing at Arthur's knees instead of his face made it rather obvious.

"You bastard," said Arthur in a low voice. "Don't think I'll fall for that! Just because you want me to be miserable doesn't mean you can get away with stopping me from going to the dance with someone I actually like!" Alfred's eyes were wide by then and he looked as though he might be near to tears. Arthur smirked. "What? Did you think I would still fancy you after last year?"

Alfred gaped at him, his mouth wide. "I-" he began but movement behind him caught Arthur's attention and he looked over Alfred's shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence. Emilio was approaching, his hands tucked into a beautiful, long black coat which reached his ankles. Turning, Alfred also spied Emilio. Quickly, he turned back to Arthur. "Just... Please don't," he begged. With that, he turned and walked off. Emilio raised his hand in greeting and Alfred pulled one of his from his pocket to wave in return. He was still close enough for Arthur to see that his hands were red from the cold. The idiot wasn't even wearing gloves.

By the time Emilio reached him, Arthur had taken a deep breath and calmed himself. He smiled up at the Portuguese student who was smiling softly back at him. "Hi," he said. "Shall we go find something to warm us up?"

"That sounds like a good idea," agreed Emilio. And, with that, Arthur's date began.

* * *

He had a fun day. They talked about nothing in particular and everything they could think of. Preparations were made for the dance and it was agreed that Emilio would turn up at Arthur's room to escort him to the dance early so that he could finish off the last-minute organising. Arthur didn't think he had smiled as much as he did at that for over a year.

However, when Emilio broached the subject of Alfred, Arthur started ranting. He knew he shouldn't, not on a date, but he was so mad at the wanker that he couldn't stop himself. Thankfully, Emilio seemed to be understanding and nodded along as he listened to Arthur's endless complaints.

At the end, as they stood in front of the door to Arthur's dormitory building, Arthur hoped he would get a kiss. After all, because he had fallen for Alfred, he had never been kissed and his longing for one had increased since Alfred's rejection. However, Emilio just smiled at him and walked off with a farewell in Portuguese. A little disappointed, he made his way up to his room only to be tackled by Elizaveta who demanded a full account of the date. Arthur obliged – including the part about Alfred – and, when he had finished, his three friends exchanged knowing looks which he pretended not to see.

Emilio had agreed to meet up when they could during the week and they ended up sitting together during lunch at one of the smaller tables. It helped Arthur through the week as he was beginning to get a little stressed about the dance.

And it didn't help that Alfred kept bursting into the student council office when Arthur was there and, subsequently, quite busy.

For the past few years, in a (poor) effort to prevent the self-proclaimed jocks of the school from spiking the apparently obligatory punch bowl, the student council had invited the different sports teams, one per year, to set up a stall for charity. The year before, the American football team had done a Christmas present stall – wrapped presents had been placed on the table provided and people were encouraged to buy the mystery parcels and give them to their date or their friends. A lot of them ended up being joke presents but, this year, the actual football team had promised actual presents.

Somehow, Alfred had become the team's spokesperson to the student council.

Every time the door banged into the wall, Arthur merely sighed and raised his head before asking what the problem was. Alfred blushed before telling him the next issue to be dealt with: not enough money or presents or people or the uncertainty about the charity. However, after the fifth time it had happened, Arthur realised that he was using it as an excuse to check up on him or whatever it was he was trying to do. His patience over the week slowly stretched: not even the talks with Emilio at lunch and the lovely dates he was taken on could help him calm down.

Finally, he lost his temper.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" he shouted when Alfred barged into the hall they were in the middle of decorating. "There can't be something else wrong with your stupid stall!"

"I... Er." Alfred seemed to realise that Arthur was on the point of exploding and began to back out. "It's nothing, really..." he mumbled.

But that was the final straw. "You backstabbing bastard!" Arthur could see the other students in the hall stop what they were doing out of the corner of his eye. Most of them were staring but he could see Kiku sidling off, probably to get Liz or Francis as they always knew how to stop him from doing anything too stupid. "Do you think that you can rule my life by barging in everywhere?!"

"No, that's not..." Alfred trailed off and bit his lip. It annoyed Arthur more. "I-I just came to ask when we're setting up, 'cause the guys want to get all these presents out of their rooms and stuff..."

"Liar!" growled Arthur, his eyes narrowed almost to the point of closing. "You're here for more than that and you know it!" Alfred lowered his eyes and kicked at the wooden floor. "Why won't you leave me alone?! I don't want to see or hear or-or even-! Go away!" Arthur panted a little at the end of his small rant, his fists clenched and his face warm from anger and embarrassment. He knew he was overreacting but Alfred caused his emotions to end up in a mess and he was fed up of having to deal with it every day when he had been mercifully distanced from him all this time.

"R-Right..." He could barely hear Alfred and he instantly felt guilty as Alfred turned around, drooping, and left the room. The door had barely swung closed when Kiku reappeared with Francis.

"Mon ami, what is going on?" the French student asked with a frown.

"Nothing, apparently," said Arthur as he turned to the gathered volunteers and noted the stares. "Well?" he called to them. "Those decorations won't hang themselves!" There was a sudden flurry of activity and Arthur finally remembered to breathe. Glancing at Francis, however, he realised that his torture hadn't ended quite yet. But he felt so exhausted that, when Francis opened his mouth to speak, he shook his head. "Not just now," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. His friend shrugged and turned to help a pretty young girl with long, black hair.

* * *

The night of the dance finally arrived and Arthur felt that he could finally breathe. With the theme of 'Far Far Away', he had opted to wear a red tunic, a golden crest sewed into the breast (which he had done personally). A silly little crown had been fastened to his unruly hair and the leggings were a cream colour, covered by long, black boots. Just as he fastened a small, old rapier that he had found in a pawn shop to his belt, a knock came at his door. He hurried from the bathroom and grinned at Kiku (who was wearing a bottle-green kimono) on his way.

Emilio stood there in a golden tunic of his own, a dark green sash looped over his shoulder. He clicked his heels together with a smile and bowed to Arthur with an outstretched hand. Pleased, Arthur accepted it with a smile.

"See you there!" he called over his shoulder to Kiku who inclined his head in agreement.

They made their way to the hall, arm in arm and entered to find it looking spectacular. A large tree festooned with baubles and tinsel had been shoved into a corner beside which a table laden with presents had been left unattended. Twinkling lights hung overhead and long pieces of brown and green cr_ê_pe paper dangled from above in an effort to create the illusion of a forest. The tables lined along the edges of the room had been draped in shiny gold and silver tablecloths. Instead of normal seats, ones shaped like mushrooms had been crowded around the tables. Large fairies and princesses and knights had been painted onto cardboard before being pinned to the wall and fairies designed for trees had been tied to the ceiling to bob in the breeze from the heaters. The stage had been made to look like a gingerbread house with large 'sweets' propped upon it.

"Uau..." breathed Emilio, looking quite impressed.

Arthur flushed with pride and grinned at him. "Good, isn't it? Now, I just have to-"

"Wait," said Emilio, blinking as he turned to Arthur. His expression changed from awe to seriousness. "I must speak with you."

Frowning, Arthur glanced around. A few of the other council members were milling around, straightening the paper plates and heaving in a big carton of fruit juice for the gigantic bowl. Other people were starting to arrive, too, as it was close to the start time. He spotted Francis arriving with Elizaveta on his arm – they both looked good with Francis in a black outfit and Liz wearing a black-and-white dress which flowed from her hips.

"Come with me," he muttered, leading Emilio to the stage. The curtain was down and he intended to go behind it to talk about whatever was bothering his date. People noticed as they climbed the stairs and slipped behind it, though, and Arthur hoped they wouldn't get the wrong idea. When they had reached their destination, Arthur turned to look at Emilio with the aid of the sliver of light from between the heavy drapes. "What is it?" he asked.

"I must tell you... that I cannot be your date for the dance tonight."

It took a moment for Emilio's words to sink in but, when they did, Arthur could only stare in shock, his mouth opening and closing as he fought for words. Eventually, he managed to say, "What?"

Emilio glanced towards the hall before returning his attention to Arthur. "I thought this would be fun. And I thought it would help you – I have seen how stressed you can get when you are organising events. But it will not be fun for _me_ when all you can talk about is Alfred."

"Eh? I do not!" cried Arthur, though he could tell he was blushing and was thankful for the gloom they stood in.

"That is all you have talked about when we are on dates, meu amigo," Emilio pointed out. "Complaining about him all the time."

"But- That's- You can't just bring me here to-!"

"Arthur," said Emilio, firmly, cutting Arthur off. "I am sorry."

When Arthur managed to stop his silent, wide-eyed staring, it was to growl and narrow his eyes. "You fucking son of a bitch! Alfred was right; I shouldn't have come with you!"

"Ah, you see-"

"Get out! Get away!" shouted Arthur, feeling himself begin to tear up a little. First Alfred, now Emilio... When Emilio suddenly reached out to him, looking rather worried, Arthur slapped his hand away. "Didn't you hear me? Get lost!" With a guilty grimace, Emilio left, the light enveloping Arthur for a moment as he pushed aside the curtain.

Arthur stayed hidden in the darkness for quite some time.

* * *

He stayed for an hour after he had recovered, making sure that everything was ready and then, as people began to crowd into the spectacular room, he stayed to make sure everything would run smoothly. His council members wisely didn't ask anything. However, once he could see that everything would be fine and he had organised the clean-up crew to turn up early the next morning, he decided to go back to his room. Arthur couldn't bear to see all the happy couples twirling in beautiful dresses and fantastic suits.

Francis managed to catch him as he headed towards the stage, intending to go out the back door; it would be best if no-one saw him leave. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"My room," said Arthur, shortly. He shot him a glare, daring him to stop him.

Sighing, Francis let him go. "I do not know what happened, cher, but you should stay and have fun. You have been far too tense-"

"Belt up, Frog," snarled Arthur and stomped off, annoyed that everyone tried to tell him what he should and shouldn't be doing. He climbed onto the stage and was about to slip behind the curtain when he heard someone call his name. Pausing, he looked out over the crowd and saw someone in a royal blue tunic with golden tassels pushing their way through the dancing couples and mingling students.

Then he made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked up and Arthur felt his heart stop. "Artie!" cried Alfred, the first time he had called him that in just under a year.

Confused and angry and everything in between, Arthur turned and fled, dodging around the instruments set up for the band that would be playing later. Alfred was faster, though – had always been – and he caught hold of Arthur's elbow as he reached the right wing. "Let go!" he growled, trying to shake him off but Alfred tightened his grip and turned Arthur around to look at him.

"No! Wait! Where are you going?" demanded Alfred. Arthur blinked up at him, amazed to see that he appeared to be furious.

"W-What does that-? You don't need to- I can do what I want!" snapped Arthur, shaking Alfred off him. "You have no right to stop me!"

"I just saw Emilio with some girl." And, if anything, Alfred's eyes flashed with more restrained anger. "He was supposed to be with you – what's going on?"

"What's going on?" repeated Arthur with a scoff. "_You're_ what's going on! It's all you fault!"

"Huh?" Alfred looked confused but Arthur was all too willing to explain.

"You came along with your accusations and your constant bothering and I- You just make me so mad!" Feeling tears coming on and annoyed that he was about to cry in front of him, Arthur pushed Alfred in the chest, making him stumble back in surprise. He kept pushing and pushing, even though Alfred was able to stand his ground now, yelling at him. "You _laughed_ at me! How could you? You laughed at me like I was some kind of joke!"

"I didn't laugh at you!" snapped Alfred, pushing Arthur back. Not expecting it, he almost toppled over but Alfred caught his wrist at the last moment and pulled him forward into his chest, wrapping his arms around Arthur's shoulders. Arthur's breath hitched and he struggled against him but stilled when he heard Alfred speak again. "I wasn't laughing at you," he was saying, quietly now. "I... It was nerves. You know I laugh when I'm nervous."

Arthur pushed away from Alfred slightly, looking up at him with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Nerves? What the hell were you nervous for? _I_ was the one nervous, you berk."

"No, I- See-" Alfred broke off and pulled away from Arthur. He paced in a circle, Arthur watching him with large eyes. Finally, he stilled, standing in front of Arthur, and took a deep breath. "You've always been a bit quicker on the uptake than me, I suppose. But, you see, when you asked me to the dance last year, I was just starting to suspect... that I was... _y'know_. When you asked, I got super uncomfortable and I didn't know what to do. So I laughed and you took it the wrong way and then I tried to put everything back the way it was but it just made it worse and I-"

"Wait!" cried Arthur, his eyes wider now. "W-What are you trying to say, exactly? You're speaking too fast."

So Alfred paused, took another deep breath and said, "Arthur, I'm gay. And I really, really like you." Arthur stopped breathing at that admission, blinking up at him in shock. Alfred's serious expression slowly melted into a fond smile. "I wanted to ask you to the dance but, guess what, you're still faster than me."

Unable to think clearly, Arthur mumbled, "If I was faster than you, I would already be in my room."

Alfred chuckled and stepped closer. "I'm really sorry, y'know. I wish I had told you earlier – then you wouldn't have been upset when Emilio dumped you for that chick."

"I wasn't upset," Arthur protested, almost pouting as he stared at Alfred's chest.

There was another laugh, this one louder. "Well, since you don't have a date, I suppose I can ask you to the dance, then?"

At that, Arthur raised his eyes to meet Alfred's hopeful ones. "I've not forgiven you yet," he said, stubborn as always.

Shrugging, Alfred held out his hand. "I don't expect you to just yet. But you made this place awesome and you deserve to have some fun, too, after everything I've put you through."

Frowning, Arthur shook his head. "I don't..."

"Aw, c'mon," pleaded Alfred, slowly regaining his confidence. "I mean, baby, all I want for Christmas is you," he sang with a cheeky wink.

Arthur couldn't stop the laugh that escaped from him. He shook his head, not quite able to believe that Alfred had used such a cheesy line on him. Nevertheless, he gently, cautiously, placed his hand in Alfred's proffered one.

* * *

"... so then I had to climb up to reach the little critter. But when I did, I couldn't get back down the same way. 'Course, I tried anyway and, boom, sprained ankle."

"You idiot," sighed Arthur, shaking his head. "You should have just waited for the fire brigade."

But Alfred just laughed, swinging their linked hands. "But I didn't need help to get down."

"You clearly did," Arthur pointed out as he unlocked the door to his dormitory building. The dance was over and Arthur had never had so much fun in such a long time. He was rather grateful that Emilio had left him and told him so when he appeared to apologise. There was a knowing look in his eyes when he had turned up and Arthur was suspicious that Emilio had known more than he had claimed. Francis and Elizaveta were ecstatic, congratulating them both as they turned red and shuffled beside each other. Alfred's friends, meanwhile, didn't seem all too impressed but they kept out of the way and Arthur was grateful – some of them had bullied him over the year and he didn't want the night to be ruined. When everyone began to leave, Alfred had offered to walk Arthur back and he had readily agreed.

"Well, yeah," admitted Alfred, sheepishly. "But I got the cat back to her kid."

"I suppose that's something," Arthur agreed with a roll of his eyes as they started up the stairs.

"Right? And I'd totally do it again."

"Next time, take a mattress to break your fall."

Alfred missed the sarcasm. "Huh. That's a good idea."

"Don't be stupid! You'd still break something."

"If I did, would you come to visit me?" asked Alfred as they stopped in front of Arthur's door.

"Well, I- Of course," Arthur mumbled, looking away as he blushed.

"Great!" said Alfred, loudly, grinning down at Arthur.

Silence descended as they stood there awkwardly, waiting for something to happen. Arthur looked around before chancing another glance up only to find Alfred staring back at him, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck with a red face.

"Um," they both said at the same time. They stopped and Arthur let out a small 'ha!' as Alfred chuckled.

"I was just..." said Alfred, stepping towards Arthur. The English student stopped breathing as he came closer. Was he about to...? "Y'know," mumbled Alfred.

"Uh huh," Arthur managed to say.

"Is it... okay?" Alfred breathed. Arthur nodded and Alfred stepped even closer. Hesitantly, the American gently took hold of Arthur's shoulders and leaned in. Instinctively, Arthur leaned forward, too, meeting him halfway. His eyes fluttered closed as Alfred slowly pressed his lips to his own. It was quick and chaste but, when Alfred pulled away, Arthur's head was spinning and a lazy smile had managed to sneak its way onto his face. When Arthur was able to focus again, Alfred looked equally as stunned.

They stared at each other until they heard someone making their way down the corridor. In sync, they stepped apart, though Arthur longed to be wrapped in those arms sooner rather than later. Then he caught himself and cleared his throat.

"I think we still need to... hm... talk? I'm still not sure whether I should forgive you."

Alfred winced. "Sorry. But, I suppose... I'll see you tomorrow?"

Arthur blinked. "Tomorrow? But tomorrow's Saturday and I have packing to do."

In response, Alfred pouted with another slight blush. "But we have a year's worth of dates to catch up on."

"Oh." Stunned, Arthur nodded. "Well, I'm sure I can find some time..."

Immediately, Alfred perked up. "Great!" he cried, flinging his arms around Arthur and hugging him close. "I'll be over as soon as I get up! Night!" And, with one more quick peck on Arthur's cheek, Alfred was gone, leaving Arthur staring after him with equal parts longing and giddiness.

* * *

_**Obviously, the two of them have a long way to go and have to deal with arguments and bullying and being busy due to their other commitments and both being new to the whole dating a guy thing. But they'll get there.  
**_

_**I made Elizaveta kind of transsexual because of Hungary thinking she was a boy when she was younger and thought it would be an interesting way for her to become friends with Arthur and Francis. She and Francis get on well and I reckon she wouldn't get the sex change because, well, Hungary from the series again, and also that Francis would be so accepting that she finally realised that her dad was a jerk and she was fine the way she was. (I imagine her dad is like Robin's dad from How I Met Your Mother.)**_

_**I thought Kiku suited being asexual and, well, it sprang into my head and stuck for no particular reason. **_

_**Emilio knew that Arthur still liked Alfred and had a suspicion that Alfred might like Arthur since he had seen the aftermath of their arguments. However, he was also a little concerned about Arthur working too hard and thought his taking him to the dance was a good idea. Until he got bored out of his mind by talk of Alfred - and he figured out that Arthur was infatuated/in love with him and it wasn't fair on both him and Arthur to be together when he could be with Alfred. (I like to think of him as a smarter version of Spain?)**_

_**Oh, and he's called Emilio because I was looking up names and it was the nicest one, in my opinion. (Also, there were no names with "port" in the name, which is what I had been calling him in my head before I looked up Portuguese names. I also can't spell Portuguese. Thank God for spellcheck.)**_

_**I was originally going to have the dance have a more wintery theme. Then I thought of Frozen (unbidden) and my brain went: "Nope. Fairytales. Princes. Gay princes,. It'll be awesome." And, so.**_

_**Merry Christmas! (In case I don't get the other one out in time.)**_


End file.
